London Calling
by LoveIsATemple
Summary: After realising Bonnie and Damon won't be coming back, Caroline Forbes packs up her things and moves across the pond to London. Three years later, her new life gets shaken to its core with the arrival of one Niklaus Mikaelson.
1. Part One

**A/N: **This was originally a part of a drabble series I'm writing, but I decided to also publish it as a one-shot because I felt it was long enough to stand on its own. I can say that there will be a few additions to this; small, short things to wrap it up it a neat little bow.

There are definitely going to be mistakes, and I can only apologise sincerely for that. I just wanted to get it out as soon as possible, as my internet access is extremely limited at the moment.

Please read and please, above all, enjoy.

* * *

**"I am still in love with you,**

**Can't admit it yet."**

**Good Arms vs. Bad Arms | Frightened Rabbit**

* * *

**London Calling**

"I'm leaving, guys. I can't be here anymore!" She shouted, her throat threatening to bleed.

Everyone looked at her with wide eyes, their mouths hanging open. Even Tyler looked shocked at her reveal. Stefan jumped up from his sitting position and flashed in front of her shaking body, grabbing both of her hands before they could tear anymore hair from her head.

"Caroline, think about this," he said calmly, catching her frantic eyes.

Her mind ran a thousand miles a minute, trying to produce a proper sentence. Inhaling a deep breath, she gave him her best helpless face. "Stefan, this is too much," she whispered carefully. "Too much."

* * *

People kept running into her, reminding her that flying on a Saturday morning the first weekend in official summer was probably a bad idea. But what she'd told Stefan last night was the truth. Losing Bonnie and Damon had been the final straw. Her body was not made of glass, but her armour was definitely starting to crack, and if she stuck around in Mystic Falls for much longer she'd be splinters scattered on the ground before she could blink.

Getting away from Virginia, from America, was the only viable option for her. Seeing the world had always been something she'd aspired to do, but since becoming a vampire those dreams had been put grudgingly on the back burner. This was the push she needed, and boy was it a forceful one.

Elena had cried, her leaky eyes spewing such sadness at having to come to terms with not only saying goodbye to Bonnie and Damon, but now Caroline as well. And her mother…

Her mother almost said no, Caroline saw the words forming on the sherif's tongue until Stefan pulled her aside and explained things. But Matt had promised to take her to the airport, which was sweet. He stood beside her as she got her bags checked and traveled with her to security, a hand placed gently on her back.

"This is where I leave you," he said when they reached the bustling, overcrowded line.

She peered up at him—at Matt, that boy who really loved her for all she was and who hated the supernatural wars and all they took from them just as much as her—and wanted to burst into tears. But she didn't. She would not break until she was far away from this place and could do so without someone tapping her shoulder, asking if she was okay.

"Be careful, Care, all right?" Matt checked, bringing her into a hug. She breathed in the lingering scent on his sweater and allowed herself to mould into his body for one moment, trying to scorch into her memory how his strong arms felt wrapped around her.

"Of course," she laughed, though nothing was funny.

Shoulders brushed against the hugging pair until they decided it was probably time to release one another. Caroline wiped her increasingly tearful eyes and grabbed ahold of Matt's hands. He smiled down at her with his own wet baby blue's.

Matt lifted his thumb to wipe away a stray tear off her cheek. "Are you sure about this, Care? A one way ticket?"

Swallowing the urge to sob and run back to her house with Matt, Caroline nodded her head slowly. "Yes," she sighed, sure of herself. "I've always wanted to leave this place, and now I think I need to."

"But London?" He asked with a shaky laugh. "So far away from all of us?"

"Hey," she whispered, suddenly aware that a few people were staring at them like they were love-sick teenagers. "I'm not forgetting about you guys. That's not why I'm going. It's not to abandon you. It's to save myself from literally going insane, which we both know won't take very long if I stay."

This was getting too serious for her. She needed a clean break from this world, and Matt was making it difficult. One look in his warm eyes and she wanted to sag into his arms again and never break for air. But what she said was true. How she'd been able to _not_ lose her mind since this all started was beyond her.

It was time: time for her to move on.

Matt stepped away from her and released her hands, laughing through tight lips. Caroline found herself almost reaching back for his comforting grip, but stopped herself just in time.

"Right," he giggled sadly. Maybe he was the insane one. He did have a rather wild look on his face. "I know you need to go, I know…but I just don't want you to," he blurted quickly, shaking his head. "But that's selfish of me to say, right?"

Not knowing how to respond—how did one reply to such a statement from such an old friend—Caroline tried to smile, the muscles in her cheeks throbbing in protest. "Maybe. Probably. And I would stay, in a heartbeat, if I knew that everything was going to be okay if I decided not to get on the plane, but there is absolutely no guarantee of that. Life will go on without me, Matt. You'll see," she assured him, though she didn't really believe anything she was saying.

Life would go on, but in the back of her mind she knew she was abandoning her friends when they probably needed her most. She was running away, becoming a coward.

"And I suppose life will go on without us, too," he said. "You should get in line."

Matt shuffled to the side and gave her one more quick hug.

"Don't forget about us, Care," he nearly shouted at her, the beeping from a metal detector causing all other noises to dim in comparison.

Getting in line, Caroline tried once again to stop tears from welling over her lower lash line. She looked over her shoulder at Matt and lifted her bow-shaped lips. "I never could."

* * *

**Three Years Later**

"Caroline, you're needed!"

Sighing unenthusiastically, Caroline stood up from her very special "break chair" and spied a little girl crying over a spilt soda. Her manager, Lindsey, whose accent was thick and northern, shooed her away with her hands.

A little girl was in need of a new drink, and it was Caroline's duty to help.

"Hi, can I clean that up?" Caroline asked sweetly.

The little girl nodded, tears brimming. Her parents looked exasperated. Caroline knew the look well.

With a smile on her face, Caroline began mopping up sticky lemonade, using flimsy napkins pulled from the apron tied too tight around her waist. Her hand quickly began helping with the cleanup as the drink soaked through the pieces of tissue paper at rapid speed.

_Great, _she sighed inwardly. _And only two hours left on my shift. _

"Thank you," Mrs. Drink-Spiller said, very sincerely, when Caroline had finished.

The blond nodded, even though cleaning up sticky messes made by clumsy little kids was not exactly in her job description. She wasn't the janitor. "You're welcome."

She walked away, back to her break chair, with sticky fingers and palms.

Noises burst from all around her as she sat. Diners in England were definitely more popular than they were in America. No matter the hour, there was always someone eating or drinking or smoking (in designated areas).

The reality made Caroline's heart sing.

When she'd moved three years ago, she had been nervous and excited and terrified. New city, new people, new obstacles.

She didn't have Elena and Matt and Stefan to fall back on anymore. When her cravings hit, she had to run to the employee bathroom, grip the sink so tight she thought it would break, and stare at herself in the mirror until her horrific veins popped out of sight.

Then she'd run out the back door and find some scared animal in an alleyway. That always sated her until evening.

After dark, after returning to her flat, she'd escape outside. She always found herself at the millennial bridge, staring out at the water, feeling the foundation rock beneath her feet.

She never feared it collapsing. If it did, she'd race off, or fall in the water and swim to shore. Dying wasn't something that scared her, not anymore.

Her first night here, all she'd done was cry in her hotel room. Horrible, screeching sobs that deafened even her. Bonnie—gone. Damon—gone. Her world, falling, failing—gone.

But then she'd fallen asleep on the comfiest mattress she'd ever laid on and awoke to the sound of taxi cabs blasting their horns. To the smell of freshly baked bread and fuel.

It wasn't raining like she'd thought it would be.

It was sunny. Cloudless, even.

So she decided to move on and leave her heavy heart on that soft mattress.

Finding an apartment wasn't as difficult as Matt had warned her. Supposedly, his mother had spent some months in London as a free spirit some time between home visits, and came home crying about the rent and the lack of space.

Caroline got lucky. Well, somewhat…

Too bad Matt's mother couldn't use compulsion.

A job was another matter entirely. Where did one work when one had no degree, absolutely no life experience outside of a tiny town called Mystic Falls, and the strange impulse to dig their teeth into the necks of unsuspecting foxes and pigeons?

Diners, she found out soon enough.

There was a small one near the Thames (near her flat, near everything) that was hiring when she moved. One interview later and she was working every day except Sunday.

Today was Friday. And she still hadn't called Matt back.

_Hey, Care, it's me. Matt. Just calling to see how you are. We're worried about you. Well, not really. But we do worry about you. Not because we think…you can't…you know…protect yourself or anything… Anyway, it's been more than six months since you last called. That's too long. Call me back…please. Bye…_

He left that message three days ago and it had been playing in Care's—Caroline's—mind every minute since. Work wasn't important today, not with those words (_We're worried…That's too long…please_) running laps in her ears like he, Matt, was right next to her, holding her, needing her like he used to. Like he probably did now.

Leaving had been the best thing for her. Probably for all of them. She was too fragile then. Bonnie—no, she couldn't go there. She hadn't gone there in three years.

They were all suffering. All separated. All alone.

Elena and Stefan spent less time together now, apparently. Matt kept tabs on them both, but neither was interesting in conversation anymore.

Matt said they sulked all day long. Elena wore black, like she was constantly preparing for a funeral. Stefan would sometimes take his ring off and stand in the sun for as long as he could without collapsing into a pile of ash—just so he could feel that _one step closer _to his brother.

Caroline forgot. She forgot about the pain in her empty chest and paid attention to the pain in her feet and back and neck. That was better. That was best. That was why she'd moved, so she could forget. And it was working.

It worked so well that she forgot she even had a mother. And a dead best friend. And a former life. And fangs that ached and pulsed when she hadn't fed enough.

She was that pretty blond with the blue eyes who worked at that diner near the Thames river. She was that girl, that woman, who smiled sickly sweet and then joked about spitting in customers' food.

That was who Caroline Forbes was in London.

"Caroline!" Lindsey waved her hand in front of Caroline's face.

She snapped out of her depressing daydream and pretended to forget the dryness in her throat which could only be cured by thick, heady blood.

Lindsey looked expectant.

Caroline realised she needed to talk now. _Be normal, Forbes!_

"What is it?" She stood from her chair and walked to Lindsey—who stood upright and attentive by the single register—as she spoke.

Lindsey's eyes (bright green, like a cat's) wandered to a seat near the entrance. Caroline didn't follow her gaze. It was rude to stare. "Customer," she breathed.

Frowning, Caroline tried to see if anything was physically wrong with Lindsey. She never sounded so out of sorts.

"He's not in my rotation," Caroline told her, because it was true. And because Lindsey was panting, which was weirding Caroline out.

"But he's sort of been staring at you. And he's really attractive. And I've never seen you with a guy, so I'm giving you this one."

"You're giving me a customer?" Caroline blinked. "Is there some underground prostitution ring here that I'm totally unaware of?"

Lindsey blanched. "Caroline! _No_. Just go. Now."

Caroline rolled her eyes, but obeyed, still refusing to look at this apparent hunk of a human being. She grabbed at her notepad and fumbled for a pen as she approached the table.

Still, she didn't look up.

She liked the anticipation. Lindsey had good taste in men, and maybe Caroline would appreciate being _extra _distracted tonight.

There was a speech all employees had to recite when reaching a table, and Caroline was just about to start saying it—with perfect fluency—when she was interrupted.

"This is your idea of culture?"

The voice was sultry, soft, and threatening. It hummed low and caressed each word with care

A shockwave of emotion flurried through her. Everything from anger to lust spiked to dangerous levels. Her mind buzzed with confusion because that voice…

She knew that voice. She _knew _it.

She heard it in her sleep. It called to her when she was lonely and scared.

Suddenly her eyes cast upward, throwing her directly into the harsh glare of one Niklaus Mikaelson: Vampire King Extraordinaire.

Caroline frowned. _What the fuck? _

Then she glared back. _Seriously. What. The. Fuck? _

"No," she replied coolly, surprised by her own ability to appear calm and collected. Especially since she was staring into the eyes of a man she'd not seen in years. Especially since he looked even better than the last time she saw him. All scraggly hair, black clothes, and scruffy stubble. "This is my idea of working. What can I get for you, sir?"

Klaus, the bastard, the fucker (_don't go there, Caroline. It'll be your doom_), raised his beautifully sculptured eyebrows at her in delighted surprise.

_He must get those things waxed or something. _

"Oh, come on," he reprimanded, like she was a child. She wanted to angrily cross her arms and stomp away, just to prove his point. "We've been on a first name basis for years now. In fact, I do believe you once called me God."

Caroline got the immediate feeling that she should probably vomit, just to clear all the poison churning away in her stomach.

"Your ears must've been blocked. I never called you God."

Klaus—Niklaus, whatever—smirked broadly, showing off his dimpled right cheek. _No keeling over, Caroline. No! _

"You were screaming rather loud, but I'm pretty sure it was good ol' G-O-D."

Crimson paint smeared over Caroline's cheeks. She wanted to melt away. And then melt right into Klaus.

She shook her head violently, her ponytail tickling the back of her neck, and stared at the cocky vampire sitting down in _her _place of work, disturbing _her _happy equilibrium, just for _his _fun and games. She wasn't his pawn. He couldn't use her anymore.

"Stop it," she demanded. "Just tell me what you want, or get out of here."

"Would a kiss be asking too much?" He asked sweetly, batting his golden eyelashes.

Caroline rolled her eyes painfully, ignoring the ache in her lips at his words. "What do you want that the diner actually serves?"

"You on a silver platter?"

"I can throw you out of here, you know that, right?"

"But I'm thinking of giving you a generous tip. Would you want to skip out on that?" He rolled a hundred pound note on to the table, pressing his fingers through the creases.

Its scent wafted to Caroline. It smelled like him, like the woods, like home—and it was extremely, aggravatingly intoxicating.

"You're such an ass," she spat, pinching her eyebrows together. She picked up her feet and turned to walk away, but he reached out quicker than lightning, grabbing her wrist, holding her in place.

His fingers were warm. Soft. But she felt a few calluses scratching her skin.

Cautiously, Caroline met his playful eyes again, almost getting lost in the sea of greens and blues.

She wanted to punch his perfect, stupid face.

Klaus let go of her arm, and an icy wave splintered through her. "Have lunch with me."

_Wait, what? _

"Food, Klaus," she said, stern. "What would you like to eat?"

He smiled his all-too-familiar secret smile. "I think the woman who seated me was giving me a nice look. Maybe her?"

"Did you come here to torture me? Or are you going to order some actual, handmade food from our kitchen? Because I really don't have to put up with this."

"And yet," he sighed, his eyes glittering, "here you are."

Caroline's mouth slackened in disbelief. "Because you just waved one hundred pounds in my face."

"Admit it. You missed me."

"Could you _be _any more egotistical?"

"I assure you, yes."

Caroline was very, very close to losing her temper. She inhaled a cleansing breath and tried again. "Seriously. Just give me your damn order."

"I'll have the cheeseburger. Skip the pickles and add extra mayo," he said quickly. The ease with which he spoke made Caroline believe he'd known all along what he wanted.

"Finally. Any drink?" She asked automatically.

She saw his answer before he spoke and held up a hand. "Forget I asked. I'll just get you a water. With extra _ice_."

He smiled, showing off the dimples that made him so much younger and more playful. "To match my cold, cold heart?"

Caroline jerked her head down to hide the small smile tugging at her lips until he spoke again. "And I'm serious about you sitting with me."

"Well tough. I'm working."

Another secret smile danced like a ghost across his face. "I do own this place, love. You'd be wise to obey me."

Caroline actively ignored his old term of endearment. "Obey you?"

"I'm just asking," he clarified.

"No," she corrected. "You're demanding. Niklaus Mikaelson doesn't ask."

Klaus lowered his eyebrows. "We've not seen each other since you left me after that mind-blowing experience we had in the woods those few years ago." He spoke like he was telling the worlds dirtiest joke, which only made Caroline's blush burn even darker. "I have changed, dear Caroline."

"You've been alive for over a thousand freaking years, and you expect me to believe you've changed your evildoer ways in _just four_?"

Her rhetorical question was met with a low growl. "Say that again, Caroline. I think some people back in Virginia didn't hear you."

His hidden threat—say that again, Caroline…and I'll rip your pretty little head off—didn't frighten her.

He didn't frighten her anymore. He only annoyed her.

"What? Afraid the supernatural police are going to rush in and poke your delicate heart with just a bit too much white oak?" She teased. When he didn't smile, she sighed and said loudly, "It's a metaphor. It means I think you're really old and disgusting."

Klaus rolled his eyes in a very uncharacteristic way. Like he was actually having fun. "Just sit with me. Or this bill goes away." He flapped the crisp hundred in front of her and gave her his best version of puppy dog eyes.

Damn, she'd forgotten how good his puppy dog eyes were.

"You do realise you're bribing me just to sit with you?" She pointed out, if only to get those eyes away from her.

_He hasn't changed_, she told herself. _Not one bit._

His face fell at her words though, and he crushed his hand around the paper.

"Please," he pleaded, his greeny-blue eyes turning strangely innocent.

Caroline looked around, looked everywhere but at _him_, and decided something. She'd give in, but just because she needed the money. Not because it was him. Not because he looked like he'd be genuinely hurt if she refused.

Not because she'd probably regret refusing him.

Not because she'd _definitely regret refusing him_.

"Fine," she huffed, pretending very well that the agreement hurt her soul. "I have to give your order in and then I have to tell my manager that I'll be sitting with the owner."

She started walking away again, only this time he let her.

When she was a few safe feet away, she turned back and faced him with narrowed eyes. "If I find out you don't own this place, I'll spit in your food," she threatened. His eyes lit with glee. "And I won't sit with you."

He held up his hands in submission and simply smiled at her proposal of severely defiling his burger.

* * *

"So, how did you come to own this place?" She asked as he took a large bite of his burger, somehow managing to still look unfairly handsome even when some mayo stuck to the fine bristles of his stubble-drenched chin.

"Compulsion? Threats?" She teased, hoping reluctantly she wasn't on point.

Klaus picked up one of the napkins Caroline had given him and patted it around his mouth. He barked a small huff of a laugh. "No, sweetheart, I bought it. It was all honest money."

_Love, sweetheart. _The way he said those words, those familiar, old words, tore through her resolve bit by bit. Each time he said her goddamn _name_ she feared she'd turn to putty right before his eyes.

"Why, then?"

"Why not," he replied cryptically.

"That's not a very reasonable answer."

Klaus took another bite, swallowed, then grinned. "When you've got too much money, all you can really do is spend it. Charities, clothes, small businesses." He motioned around the tiny diner.

"You don't give to charities," Caroline whispered, shocked.

A glimmer of laughter shone in Klaus' eyes. "Of course I do. All the good ones. Charity balls are fun. Boring, but fun."

"That's an oxymoron." Klaus lifted an eyebrow in question—_Which part?_ Caroline held in a huff. For someone so old, he wasn't very bright sometimes. "Boring but fun. That's an oxymoron," she explained.

"The company is fun, but the actual event is boring. There, no oxymoron." If he were childish enough, which Caroline knew he _probably _was, she could imagine (very vividly) Klaus sticking his tongue out at her at that very moment.

"You'd probably enjoy them, charity balls. You dress up in fancy clothes, wear white gloves, pretend to be above everyone else in the room…"

He was teasing her. And it took Caroline a moment to realise she didn't actually mind. In fact, she liked it. She'd missed it.

God, she was losing her mind. How could she _miss _Klaus making fun of her?

Because it was normal. Or, it had become normal. Before everything went bat-shit crazy. Before Bonnie cut her hair. Before Elena _really _chose Damon. Before she had a little crush on Stefan. Before, before, _before_.

And she missed before.

The conclusion formed a heavy lump in Caroline's windpipe, which she tried to remove by laughing throatily at Klaus' joke.

"Aren't you hilarious," she deadpanned.

Klaus leaned back in his chair, plopping the burger back on his plate, and laced his fingers behind his head. "Do you remember the ball at my home back in Mystic Falls? You wore the dress I got you, the bracelet. We danced, I spilled my guts to you, you left…" He sounded wistful, like maybe he missed before as well.

"First of all," Caroline said, holding up one finger. "I had nothing else to wear, I told you that—" Klaus grinned at her—"And second, I hated you then."

"So you do remember."

"It was an eventful night. I told you off."

His eyes sparkled in remembrance. "I spent hours that night trying to figure out what you'd done to me. I think I was angry at first, annoyed that such a small thing like you could affect me. But then that made way for some stronger emotion and I knew I had to make it right."

"And drawing me was your way of saying, 'Please forgive me for being such an ass'?" Caroline questioned, putting on her best impression of Klaus.

"Your accent needs work darling, but yes, it was." He was silent for a moment. Deep in thought. Then he retreated against his chair again—"What happened to that drawing?"

_Shit_.

Caroline grimaced, prepared for an outraged attack. "I may or may not have destroyed it…with a shredder," she said slowly, warily.

"Ah," Klaus breathed.

She chanced a look at him. He was still smiling. Proving that he had magnificent dimples.

"You're not mad?" Caroline asked.

"Don't sound so surprised, Caroline."

"I _am _surprised. Four years ago you would have gone postal."

"A lot has changed in four years, love," he said bleakly, that perfect smile vanishing in a puff of smokey gloom.

_Like what, _she wanted to ask.

"A lot," he said again, answering her unspoken question.

She frowned. The Original vampires hadn't learned how to read minds since she last saw them, had they?

Klaus sighed and ran both hands through his curls. "I'm not here to talk about me, Caroline."

A question popped in her head, one she couldn't believe she hadn't asked yet. "Then why are you here?"

"To see you." He said it too quickly, and his voice curved at the end of his statement, turning it into an unsure question.

Caroline scoffed and folded her arms on the table, giving him her classic _I-don't-believe-a-fucking-word-you've-just-said-to-me-Klaus _look, even though it proved he'd somehow been keeping tabs on her since they parted ways. "Don't lie to me, Klaus. Not now. Not after four years. I know you, remember? You made damn sure of that. I know when you're lying."

For a moment, Caroline thought Klaus was going to argue with her. Tell her she didn't know him. Tell her to stop saying things that weren't true.

But he didn't.

"I was asked to come see you. To…to check up on you," he murmured reluctantly.

Caroline's mouth clicked open. "What?" She breathed, but she wasn't sure if she'd actually spoken. There was too much blood pounding in her ears. "By who?"

Rolling his eyes, Klaus stomped an angry foot on the floor. "By that stupid boy of yours. The blond one," he growled.

The diner had thinned in customers since Caroline sat down with Klaus. There was one couple left, sipping their shared milkshake, completely oblivious to the hostile undercurrent in the room.

"Matt?" She gasped, her face turning red—anger, not embarrassment.

Klaus tore his hands through his hair once more, tugging the curls. "Yes, Matt. Rebekah's long-lost love."

"But…why?" _Why? _She screamed at herself, _because you've been MIA for six goddamn months. _

"Why?" Klaus hissed. "Probably because for the past six months he's been thinking the worst. You vanished, Caroline. He got worried."

"I was going to call him," she mumbled petulantly.

An invisible trigger went off. "When were you going to, Caroline?" Klaus roared. Caroline spied the couple finishing their milkshake. They were staring. _Keep your hair on, Klaus. _"Answer me."

Tears pricked Caroline's eyes. "I…I don't know," she whimpered.

"You don't _know_?" He asked, softer this time. He sounded wounded—winded. "Caroline, he was so scared. When he called me yesterday, he thought you'd died."

Klaus said the words so bluntly that Caroline wanted to throw up.

Matt thought she was dead?

"Did he really?" She whispered.

Nodding solemnly, Klaus closed his eyes, like he couldn't bear to be in this situation. She couldn't either, so she closed her eyes too.

"He said, 'Caroline's supposed to call. She's supposed to have called me by now. Klaus, she wouldn't just drop off the face of the earth. She knows how much we worry. Klaus…Klaus, I think something horrible's happened. I think she might be dead'."

She wasn't sure, but Caroline thought she heard Klaus' voice break on the word _dead_.

"I'm not dead," she said, like it fixed the problem.

She opened her eyes to find Klaus scowling at her.

"_I didn't know that_," Klaus snapped. Then he sighed a heavy sigh and rubbed his forehead. "I told him I'd check up on you. I knew you'd left the country. I knew you were in London. All Matt had to do was tell me where you worked." He smirked, finally, and looked around the diner. "Seems even an ocean apart you're drawn to me."

The ease with which Klaus zoomed through emotions reminded her of the night she met Kol. She'd been having genuine fun with Klaus for about five seconds before he grabbed her and demanded answers she didn't even have.

_Mercurial._ She'd learned that word years ago, but never before did it fit a situation—or a person—so aptly.

So she played along, swallowing the strong urge to burst into tears, and slipped a smirk on her face. "I didn't know you owned this place."

"I know," he agreed. "That's what makes it even nicer. The one eatery I own, and Caroline Forbes ends up working in it."

* * *

They talked and they ate and they laughed. Nina Simone crooned through the diner speakers on repeat, singing about feeling good and putting spells on men.

When there was a lull in their conversation, Caroline sat back and shook her head at the absurdity of the day. Never in a million years did she expect to see Niklaus Mikaelson in her place of work, checking to make sure she hadn't died. Never did she think Matt would go to _Klaus _of all people because he thought something horrible had happened to her.

Matt disliked Klaus as much as he would allow himself to dislike anybody. It wasn't much, but it was a lot more than Caroline had ever seen him hate before.

Christ, he must have been petrified. He must have had no hope if he was willing to call Klaus and ask him to go all the way to England to see if she was still alive.

What had he told her mother? Caroline spoke to her less than she spoke Elena and Stefan.

Did Matt lie to the sherif and say that everything was fine across the pond? Or did he worry her too, so he wouldn't have to worry alone?

Why hadn't she called him sooner? Was she too wrapped up in life here that she completely looked past the fact that her friends were in just as much pain as her?

"You look pained, sweetheart." Klaus interrupted her train of thought. She jerked her head in search of his voice. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing. Everything." Caroline stifled a yawn.

"Sounds tiring," he offered.

"You've no idea." She studied her pale hands, just so she wouldn't have to look him in the eye. "My shift's over now, by the way. You can leave."

"I'd like to see where you're living, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind," Caroline said before thinking it through.

But then she thought it through and realised she didn't mind.

* * *

Caroline found Lindsey in Caroline's break chair.

"Lindsey, I'm leaving. You still good to lock up?"

"How do you know the owner?" Lindsey said instead.

What's the best way to go around this…? Lie? Omit? Pretend she really, really needed to leave?

"He's a one night stand from a few years back." _Great job, Caroline. You're lying skills are superb! _She mentally slapped herself.

Lindsey stood up and sucked in a fast breath. "You slept with the boss?"

"No. Yes. Wait, no. You're my boss. He's like, the _boss _boss."

"So you slept with the _boss_ boss?"

"Yeah. But I didn't know who he was."

"You minx!"

"No, I knew who he was. We'd known each other for a couple of years. I just—" Caroline stopped, gathered her thoughts, and rolled her eyes—"I didn't know he owned this place when it happened. I haven't seen him in years."

Lindsey giggled like a schoolgirl for a few seconds. Caroline suppressed the urge to shove her back into the break chair—_her _break chair.

"Go, Caroline," she said eventually. "I'm fine here. Leave. Go. He's hot and he wants you. He obviously came here just to see you."

There was truth to Lindsey's observation. Klaus was always a big believer in grand romantic gestures. (The bracelet, the ball gown, allowing Tyler to come back—but only because he was her 'first love' and he intended to be her 'last'.) But she wouldn't tell Lindsey the reason he came this time was because he thought she'd died.

She also wouldn't tell Lindsey about the times Klaus nearly killed her. After all, he more than made up for it in the amount of times he'd saved her.

* * *

Caroline lived in a tall building. Floors and floors of apartments. Apartments full of rich people who wondered how on earth the small girl with the American accent afforded to live in one of the flats on the upper floors.

She daydreamed about sitting in their laps and sinking her aching teeth into their snobby necks.

_Mmm, human blood._

Seeing Klaus gazing at nighttime London through the all-glass wall in her sitting room gave Caroline funny feelings. The blue lights from the London Eye gave him a hard look, but she could tell he was relaxed—his breathing was slow and melodic, nothing like back at the diner.

"I never get tired of that view," she told him, walking up to him with a glass of straight bourbon in hand.

He took the alcohol and smiled warmly, like he'd already had too much to drink. "I've missed it," he said, and she blushed, because she wasn't sure if he meant the Thames, or if he meant her.

Caroline wanted to talk, she wanted to chatter her cares away. Matt thought _she was dead_. She needed to forget about that. It needed to not be a thing anymore.

But she'd been hiding for six months—_three years_—that's how this happened. That's how Klaus Mikaelson ended up sitting at the diner where she worked, checking to see if she was still alive.

"Why you?" She asked. She stood beside him in her work clothes (white top, black trousers), peering out at the water.

Klaus chuckled softly. "I don't know why he called me. I don't know how he got my number." He frowned, obviously still a little confused about the situation himself.

Untying her hair, Caroline let her blond locks float around her shoulders. She ignored Klaus' primal stare as she threaded her fingers through.

"Okay, and why did you come?" She wasn't even sure if she wanted an answer, but the question—why, Klaus, why?—had been itching her throat.

The Original vampire leaned against the glass, raising an eyebrow at her. She mirrored his expression.

"Well…" she probed.

He sighed reluctantly and finished his drink in one long sip. Putting the glass on a small table by the wall, he moved an inch closer to Caroline.

"Because I wanted to. Because I, for some strange reason completely unbeknownst to me, still care about that silly small town of yours and all the little people in it." Klaus ran a hand through his hair, his new tell-tale sign that he was getting worked-up. "I hadn't seen any of you in years. _Years_, for Christ's sake. But one phone call from the All-American and I booked myself a first class ticket for the next day."

Caroline staggered forward, toward Klaus, until she could feel his heavy breathing on her skin. "I'm not dead," she said for the second time that night, though she knew it didn't help anything. "You didn't have to come."

Her words were met with a bitter laugh. "That's the thing though, isn't it? I _did _have to come. I had no choice. As soon as I heard your name, I was already halfway here."

The admission sent a swarm of butterflies to Caroline's stomach. She staggered again—closer, closer, closer.

This was dangerous. _He _was dangerous. The most dangerous creature in the world. But he smelled inviting and sweet, like the Virginian woods she left behind.

Klaus inclined his head in her direction, so that their foreheads were almost touching. The heat radiating off his skin soaked into her blood.

"I told Matt I'd tried to get you back to Virginia," he said lowly.

She closed her eyes as a painful electric shock zapped her dead heart. "I can't, Klaus. I can't. It's too much."

"It's been too long, love."

A hand cupped her chin and she opened her eyes warily. Klaus' callused, soft fingers held her head steady. He was pleading with her…very calmly.

_I've changed_, he told her that evening_. _

She sucked in a soft breath and pulled her lips into a small smile. "What are we doing here, Klaus?"

"Well, I'm trying to get you to go back to your friends."

"I can't."

"You can. You need to."

"I can't get time off," she said lamely.

Klaus' eyes flickered dangerously. "I'm sure you could convince your boss."

She laughed sharply, sarcastically. Oh, she was definitely still a pawn in his little game. "I don't know about that. I hear the owner of the diner doesn't like people having more than one day off a week."

"He sounds like a hard ass."

Caroline pulled her chin out of his grip and turned to face the river. London at night was too beautiful. She didn't want to leave.

"I don't want to go, Klaus. I like it here." She felt a tightening in her chest, which was stupid because she thought that not having a working heart should stop it from hurting so goddamn much.

He placed his hand on her back, like he couldn't bear to not touch her. "You don't have to leave. Not forever. Just for a little while. Just so they know that you're okay."

"And a phone call won't do that?" She asked, frustrated.

"No," he said sternly, his fingers pressing into her flesh. She'd almost forgotten he was holding her.

He was right. Which was annoying. And painful.

"Okay," she murmured quietly, but she knew he was listening.

"Okay?" He sounded relieved.

Caroline nodded, her head swimming. "But I'm serious about getting time off. My boss probably won't be pleased."

"Caroline," he admonished playfully. _Mercurial_. "I'm the _boss _boss, and I'm giving you some time off."

"You were listening to my conversation!" Caroline gasped, slapping Klaus' hand off of her.

He giggled the same giggle as when she went to him looking for a prom dress. "She's right, you know. I am very hot."

"Ugh!" Caroline moved away from the window-wall. "You're insufferable."

More giggling. Then it stopped. Then—"I did come here just for you. I can't tell you how relieved I was when I came in and saw you." He sounded somber now, his voice right behind her. "Call the boy."

He meant Matt. He was asking her to call Matt. To tell Matt that she was alive and that she was coming home, just for a little while. To prove that she was still walking and talking and taking her blood.

But his voice was right there, and she hadn't seen him for three years, and she was always so bad at turning away from him.

So she didn't.

She turned toward him instead, and, almost like magic, her lips ghosted over his.

* * *

"Go, call the boy," he said breathlessly when she broke away. His lips were pink, and soft. Just like she remembered. He pressed his forehead to hers, his hands still clasped behind her back. "I don't know what you've done to me, Miss Forbes."

"Don't call me that," she instructed. "And I don't know. I assume it's the same thing you've done to me."

He took a step or two away from her then and pointed to her cell phone. Shaking her head at him, Caroline obeyed. The phone felt heavier than it had when she'd put it down, like it was weighed down with guilt and regret and pain.

"Hey," Klaus said under his breath, behind her once more. "You can do it."

"I can do it," she said to herself.

Caroline unlocked the mobile and searched through her contacts. Something told her that if her heart still beat, it'd be jumping up to her throat.

Matt's name flashed on the screen. She pressed the letters, watching them transform into his smiling face. Seeing it nearly broke her.

She brought the phone to her ear, squeezing it so tight she thought it would snap.

Shivers ran through her, synched with the ringing blasting in her ears.

Someone's hand rested on the back of her neck and then a voice whispered, "You've no idea how happy I am right now. How unhappy I've been. How happy simply seeing you has made me."

The ringing stopped. Someone—someone else, someone with a gruff American drawl—said, _Hello? _

She held her breath.

"Matt…hi."

* * *

**A/N 2: **Any thoughts?


	2. Part Two

**A/N: **So, so sorry this took _forever_ to update! I really just lost inspiration for it, but I've found it again, so that's good. I think.

It's short, as I said it was going to be, and it's told in Matt's POV, which was strange for me to write because I've never done it before. Hopefully you all like it, and I can say that I've already got the next part started. With it, we'll be transported back to London to see Klaus and Caroline. It should not take nearly as long to get out, promise.

But your support has been wonderful! Thank you for everything, you absolutely amazing people. You keep me going when I feel like I suck at writing.

And I did not say this before, but the title of this whole thing is a very famous song by The Clash.

Also...**_I OWN NOTHING!_**

Enjoy!

* * *

**"When they can't find you,**

**You'll turn into a mystery.**

**But you're no mystery to me."**

**Miss California | Jack's Mannequin**

* * *

**London Calling: Part Two**

Matt Donovan was never very bright. He struggled with mathematics, history, English, foreign languages…everything, really. College wasn't for him. He couldn't even handle high school—what would college bring him other than more failure and more self-loathing?

He wasn't a scholar and he never would be, but he was a damn good human being.

Growing up without either a mother or a father forced him to speed through the adolescent stage of life. It forced him to be a man before he was ready. He couldn't be a fool or a jackass or a smart-ass because he had to be responsible. Responsible for Vicki and responsible for his mother whenever she'd find the time to actually be at home.

Then Vicki left. Left him and his mother and Jeremy, and life started feeling unimportant again. Like it had done when Elena decided he wasn't the one for her anymore. Vicki became just another person to abandon him, and he didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive her for that. Her death wasn't her fault, he understood that, but if she hadn't been so obsessed with partying and boys, he was sure it could have been avoided.

Then again, the minute the Salvatore brothers made their way into town, the security of every citizen in Mystic Falls was threatened. No one stood a chance.

He often wished that those boys—those monsters—had never showed up in the first place. They just ruined everything. Elena, Caroline…Bonnie. His friends dropped like flies; they succumbed to the supernatural charm of the vampire pair.

And, eventually, he got tied up too. With ropes that never seemed to loosen, not even a tiny bit. In the beginning, he hated it. He hated what the vampires and the witches and the werewolves did to him. They made him something he wasn't—a fighter. Before, he'd been perfectly capable to ween his way out of an argument by using his words and his calm face. Unfortunately those things didn't work against paranormal powers.

He woke up sometimes, still angry at himself for not getting out when he had the chance. He should have packed up his things the minute Vicki disappeared. The minute he found out what Caroline was. But he didn't. He stayed and he let the Salvatore's destroy everything good in his life.

When the Original's arrived he thought that was the end of everything. He thought their presence would be the final nail in his coffin. He was already so tired and so angry that when they popped their old-as-Dracula-and-then-some heads into Mystic Falls he truly feared the end of the world.

Klaus was their ringleader. He was out to eradicate them all, for some petty reason or another. It started with Elena. Her blood began their downfall. Then Klaus just had to go after Caroline, like the evil bastard just couldn't keep his hands off.

_Bite your girlfriend_, he'd told Tyler. And Tyler couldn't say no. But after it happened, after Caroline lay dying on her bed, presents still unwrapped all over in her house, he showed up, begging to help. Matt was burning with hatred for the hybrid—so, so much hatred—that he hadn't been able to see the distress in Klaus' eyes. The guilt…the shame.

He'd fixed Caroline up, made some romantic speech about birthdays and living for eternity. He'd told her that it was nothing personal, but Matt was listening when he spoke. He heard the shiver in Klaus' voice, the dread.

Matt tried to rationalise it for months, the attraction the deadly vampire/werewolf had for his friend, but none of his excuses ever lasted long.

The second Matt decided that Klaus' feelings for Caroline were genuine, he began noticing all the little signs. The way Klaus' eyes would always seek out Caroline's when they were in a room together. How Caroline's face would lighten when she spotted Klaus, and then fall because what was she doing being happy to see him?

And he watched them for a long time. For so long that whenever Caroline would become another game piece in the war against the Originals, whenever she was to be used as bait, Matt almost protested. Klaus did not look like a man you wanted to hurt. It was clear to Matt (if to no one else) that his adoration for Caroline was _real_, and if Caroline ended up breaking his heart, there was no telling what Klaus would do.

Matt didn't understand it. Not in the least. How could someone as clever and strong and independent as Caroline Forbes fall in love with someone as evil and vile and murderous as Niklaus Mikaelson?

Klaus, the vampire who had tried using Caroline as a sacrifice before they even met.

Klaus, who ordered Caroline's werewolf boyfriend to bite her.

Klaus, who bit her himself and then swiped his arm on his sleeve to rid his chin of her blood.

And he still didn't understand it. Years after the two first met, five years after they had their frolic in the woods, and Matt still could not comprehend it. But he was done trying to. Love made no sense. Love was idiotic and destructive and it did funny things to your head.

Caroline and Klaus were those star-crossed lovers he'd read about in English class. They were epic and destined for heartbreak.

So, when Caroline stopped calling him, who else was Matt supposed to contact?

After Bonnie and Damon's death, he had wanted to run away too. He'd been so close to packing his own bag and fleeing. But he was needed in Mystic Falls. Elena and Stefan needed him to be strong. Jeremy needed him.

He let Caroline go. He'd hugged her and made her promise to call and stood still when she turned around, even though he could feel his heart splintering in his chest as he watched her walk away.

Everything fell apart when she left.

Elena stopped talking. She hid away in the dark and allowed her grief to swallow her. She refused blood and comfort to the point that the only way she ever got any nourishment was when she fell asleep. Matt found himself having to creep into her room as she dozed with a syringe full of blood. He forced her mouth open and let drop after drop slide down her throat until her skin glowed olive once more.

Stefan became suicidal. Matt was so used to the younger Salvatore being strong—stronger than all of them—that when he first took off his ring and stood in the sunlight, Matt almost didn't get there in time. He had been too shocked to move. Thankfully, he snapped out of his stupor and managed to pull Stefan inside.

And Jeremy. Poor Jeremy. His recovery had been the most painful for Matt to watch.

Jere started smiling. He got a job and wore a silly diner apron and served customers with a wink and a high five. But Matt would watch him crack. He'd be there when Jeremy couldn't handle the crushing weight on his shoulders anymore. He'd catch Jeremy when the boy collapsed in a heap of sobs.

Matt was so close to keeling over himself. Having to care for these three people for the past four years hadn't been easy for him. He was the leader now, fighting a never-ending battle.

He had allowed Caroline to not call him for a few months before. She was busy with work and with being free, and he didn't want to be the needy ex-boyfriend who would call and complain about how much he missed her and how much he wished she were at home.

The longest she'd ever gone without calling was two months, and for two months, he was okay. He was exhausted and worried about everyone in Mystic Falls, but he was okay with not hearing from Caroline.

But two months turned into three, and three months turned into six.

* * *

He couldn't see Klaus, but he suspected the hybrid was pacing. He suspected the phone in his hand was close to snapping in half. "Six months?" He asked again, and Matt rubbed his forehead in exasperation.

"Yes, yes, six months," he repeated for the seventh time since giving in and calling Klaus.

Fear bubbled in Matt's stomach. He wasn't sleeping or eating. He'd lost eight pounds. He was too worried about Caroline to do anything other than sit and think about all the horrible things that might have happened.

Klaus sighed, but it sounded painful and tight. "And you're sure you haven't just missed her call?"

"I'm sure," he murmured. God, he was shaking. Stefan was watching him from where he sat toying with his ring, his eyebrows pulled to the centre of his forehead.

Matt hadn't told anyone else about Caroline's sudden disappearance, but Stefan had superhuman hearing and there was no doubt in Matt's mind that he knew about it now.

"What do you want me to do?" Klaus breathed, sounding close to tears.

Thinking on it for a second, Matt decided something. He'd never liked Klaus, not really, but he trusted him. Trusted the love he had for Caroline. It had been five years since they'd seen each other, but the second Matt called, the second Klaus picked up the phone and asked immediately what had happened, he knew the hybrid's heart hadn't given up on the baby vampire. On his friend.

"Find her," he said finally, and he knew Klaus couldn't say no.

There was a momentary silence filled with fear and dread. Then Matt heard it, that one word that loosened the chains on his heart just the right amount to let him breathe.

"—Okay."

* * *

**A/N 2: **Who's excited for part three?


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